


Holiday Party

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [29]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Cruelty, F/F, F/M, Humiliation, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, Orgy, Torture, Vampires, Voyeurism, Werewolves, blood-sucking, dark!fic, dub-con, enslavement, evil!Merlin, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur becomes bolder. There's a good turn-out for the Count's party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Party

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the warnings, please. This fic is a kink fic first and foremost and a romance (somewhat) second.
> 
> Sorry I didn't get this posted this morning.

For the next few days, Arthur saw little of the Count. When Arthur did find himself in Dracula’s presence, he stood beside his master and saw to all his needs, but Dracula rarely spoke.

Although Arthur tried to keep his head bowed at all times, he noticed that Dracula watched Arthur almost constantly, only looking away when he thought he was in danger of Arthur catching him at it. For some reason, Arthur found this endearing. Arthur wasn’t certain what fleeting emotion he saw in the Count’s eyes during those moments, but Arthur thought it might be uncertainty. It gave Arthur a boldness he had hitherto lacked when dealing with his lover.

When he wasn’t with the Count, Arthur helped Gwaine, Percy, Cenred, and Will prepare the Manor for the upcoming festivities.

As Arthur watched the three sisters adorn every downstairs room with greenery, he couldn’t help but wonder about Gwendolyn’s fate. He believed that Dracula would keep his promise and not kill her, but what had he done with her? Was she still at Carfax Manor? Were the sisters keeping her locked away? Arthur had promised not to speak her name, but he hoped that he might one day find out what had become of her.

The day before the party, Arthur was exhausted from all the last minute preparations and went to his quarters. The three sisters had left the Manor the night before and not returned yet. The Count had already retired for the night, and Arthur wished more than anything that he could go to Dracula’s room and share the big four poster bed with him again. Perhaps after the party, Dracula would relent.

Just as Arthur had shed his clothes, washed, and prepared to climb onto the narrow cot, he heard a commotion in the yard beneath his window and lifted the window shade to look out. To the far left, he could just make out the edge of the drive and Fiverton opening the door of the carriage to help several figures alight. They walked toward the back of the Manor, two of them staggering as though drunk. Arthur watched for a few moments more, but other than the appearance of a pack of wolves at the perimeter of the woods, he saw nothing more.

That evening, it snowed. Great flakes of white swirled through skies that swiftly turned from grey to ebony. Twinkling lanterns lined the long drive to the manor where carriage after carriage transported elaborately dressed guests to be dropped at the front door of Carfax Manor. Arthur donned the gold tunic given to him to wear. After walking around naked for the past few days, the expensive weave of the cloth was a welcome luxury. It was quite short, barely covering Arthur’s bum and privates, but it felt pleasant against Arthur’s skin. The soft folds of the garment swept over one shoulder, leaving the other side of Arthur’s chest bare, the small gold D hanging from his nipple clearly visible. Arthur had grown accustomed to his piercings, and he found that he even found perverse pleasure in being marked as the Count’s property. He didn’t know what it meant that he did—all he really knew was that his bite marks increasingly burned as each day went by, and he suffered an almost constant erection. The Count forbade him to relieve himself in any way—it was one of the few things Dracula had said to him since Arthur’s enslavement began.

When Arthur lay in his lonely cot at bedtime, his stiff prick tenting the covers, thoughts of the Count sinking his fangs into Arthur’s skin brought dribbles of pre-cum to his cock head. It was a torture worse than any Arthur had experienced at the Count’s hands so far.

Downstairs, the Manor’s rooms were alight with many candles. In the dining room, a huge buffet table covered in white replaced the regular mahogany set. Arthur did a double take as he passed it, for what he’d at first glance mistaken as an overly large goose, was upon a second look actually a nude woman trussed on a silver plate in the center of the table. She lay on her stomach, blindfolded with a red velvet scarf, her hands pulled up behind her and bound on each side to her ankles. All manner of fruit tumbled from between the woman’s spread legs, and a large, red apple was wedged tightly into her drooling mouth. Her dark hair spilled over her pale shoulders and onto the table, where the nipple of each large breast was pinned to the wood. Arthur could see her ribs moving rapidly with each panting breath.

It wasn’t Gwendolyn, but Arthur couldn’t help the shiver that went through him at the thought. Hurrying past, he skirted the small orchestra playing in the alcove and headed for the doors to the main room where he could hear the clinking of glasses. He didn’t know where all the servers had come from, but there were many.

When Arthur paused in the doorway to the main room where the guests stood drinking and talking, many of the men and women in attendance turned and cast admiring looks his way. Arthur blushed at the bulge that tented his front and eagerly scanned the room for Dracula, finally spotting him in the crowd. Dracula looked incredibly handsome in a white shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest and black trousers, and Arthur’s insides burned as he watched two beautiful women run their hands over Dracula’s chest and arms. For a moment, Arthur forgot he was supposed to be a slave and stared boldly into the Count’s eyes, jealous possession coursing through him.

“You look exceptionally delicious,” Leander whispered into Arthur’s ear, breaking Arthur’s concentration. “At first I thought you overdressed, but I can now see why my cousin has displayed you in this fashion.” He gave Arthur’s arse a hard pinch under the skirt of his tunic. “Eyes down, Slave.”

Arthur bowed his head and crossed the room to Dracula, kneeling at his feet and awaiting instruction.

“I say, Cousin, might have a go with him?” Arthur heard Leander ask from behind him. Arthur’s blood chilled in his veins at the very thought.

“Keep your hands off him,” Dracula replied coldly, to Arthur’s relief. Then, in a softer voice, “Look at me, Arthur.”

Arthur raised his eyes to meet the Count’s. Dracula stared at him for long seconds before reaching out and running his fingers through Arthur’s hair in a gesture so tender, it brought tears to Arthur’s eyes. The pain he felt at the women touching the Count faded a little.

Morgana and Yvette appeared from the midst of the crowd with a young woman between them. She wore a plain dress, ripped at the shoulder, and her long, golden hair was tied back at the nape. Yvette eyed the woman's neck with hunger in her pale eyes.

“We’ve brought a toy to the party,” Morgana said. “Pauline—meet your host, Count Dracula.” She pushed the woman to her knees next to Arthur.

“Arthur,” the Count said, his eyes never moving from Arthur’s face to even glance at the woman at his feet, “take out my cock.”

Arthur obediently reached out to undo Dracula’s flies and pull him from their confines, grinding his teeth together at what he could well guess was coming.

Morgana yanked the blond girl’s head back and forced her to accept Dracula’s large prick into her mouth. The Count pushed in, gagging her. As he continued to look at Arthur, his member swelled in the woman’s mouth. Slowly, he began to thrust. The other two women, hands still stroking Dracula’s chest, looked on jealously. When one ventured to reach down to caress the swell of Dracula’s balls, Arthur swatted her hand away.

The Count moaned and abruptly yanked himself from the woman’s mouth, coming all over Arthur’s upturned face. Arthur happily licked the salty drippings from his lips and chin.

After that, Arthur was ordered to the hot kitchen where he helped a cook he’d never seen before prepare more punch.

“Take it to the dining room,” she told him when they’d finished. Arthur lifted the huge bowl and walked through the back door of the kitchen with it.

Someone had pushed a whole carrot up the arse of the human centerpiece, and increasingly drunken guests groped a couple of the servers who had lost their shirts. Arthur set down the punch bowl, narrowly avoiding a hand up his tunic as he did so.

He hurried away from the crowd and back into the hot kitchen.

When he saw the cook was nowhere around, Arthur slipped out the back door into the fresh, cold night. He stood there, each of his expelled breaths appearing as white puffs in the dark night, and gazed up at the crescent moon. Snow blew into his face, and Arthur’s overly warm skin slowly began to cool.

Across the yard, Arthur recognized Gwaine, Percy, and Cenred walking the Presa Canarios around the perimeter of the property. The large, muscular dogs with their square heads seemed ferociously strong to Arthur, but the three men easily controlled them. Besides the dogs in the kennels, Dracula kept several horses in the barn. Arthur once saw the Count looking very impressive out riding a huge, gorgeous black stallion. 

Arthur watched until the men got the dogs back to the kennels and then went back inside.

“There you are,” the cook said. “The Master was looking for you.”

Arthur walked through the door to the next room and into an orgy. Everywhere he looked, someone had a cock or cunny in their mouth and at least one orifice filled. He picked his way through them, several times almost pulled into a coupling, searching for the Count. When Arthur found Dracula lying nude with one of the ladies who earlier had been rubbing his chest, the wench now preparing to mount him, Arthur surged forward and shoved her off. She went sprawling onto the floor with a cry of outrage.

The Count’s eyes met Arthur’s, widening just a little as Arthur positioned himself.

“I’m sorry, A Mea,” Arthur said, “but she was about to take my seat.”

With that, he lowered himself onto Dracula’s rigid cock.


End file.
